Nuthin' But Pure Gold
by Lovatic1966
Summary: Jade and Cat, one-shot. A look back over memories from the past and a look into the future.


You know if anything, that she's your polar opposite. She likes the sunshine, bright colors, happy songs. You like the dark, it covers you like a shroud that you're always comfortable in. She likes to skip around with a big smile on her face, say random things that somehow make her happy. You walk everywhere with almost always the same expression on your face without saying a word. She likes bunnies and unicorns, you like blood and scissors. She's Cat and you're Jade, it's that simple. But there's still so much more. There's always more to a book than just it's cover, a person to his or her skin.

As opposite as you two are, she's been your best friend for a long time. You met in the second grade, when your mean streak hadn't been developed yet and you were little more than the girl that pushed back when pushed first. She wanted the red crayon and the purple elephant, so you got them for her. She smiled and said thank you with the same smile that you still see now, somehow still innocent when you've been beaten and twisted, bruised and broken, feeling black and corrupted forever. When you came back with what used to be your favorite color, a dark gold, she was crying. You dropped your crayon and wrapped your arms around her tiny frame, ask what's wrong. Her answer comes in the shape of her pointing finger and you see the boy with the curly hair, later on to get glasses and become a nerd, Robbie Shapiro, playing with a t-rex that he's making chomp down on Cat's elephant. You storm over to him, taking your crayon with you and snatch both his toys, only to throw back down the dinosaur with a mustache. The crayon hits his face and he whines and runs away, leaving his t-rex for the safety of the plastic house in the corner.

Now you're both in high school, a year away from graduating and Cat is still almost the same, but you've gone through so many drastic and horrendous changes you can barely recongize yourself and sometimes wonder if that second grade memory is really yours. Little does your innocent little Cat know, the purple elephant stands next to your nightstand, a splash of color in your dark room, a point of light that you take tenderly in your hands and carress at night when you feel like it. Sometimes you smile and remember the stuffed unicorn and pig with the mustache you got her, seen in her videos on The Slap. She's always so happy, dancing and doing silly things while you sit and talk about all the things you hate. She's the bright red fox dancing around you in happy circles, trying to entice the black wolf to play.

Sometimes, you let her take you for ice cream (only God knows why you let her drive) because she begs and when she says, "Just like we're kids again!" in her excited voice you can't resist and you smile the whole way there. Cat's a part of your history before the black and the scissors, a precious relic that you want to keep clean and protected. When people try to start rumors about her you're there to stop it in the second you hear about it and you beat the culprit down verbally and in rare times, physically. All because you want to keep that bright, radiant smile on her face, keep her innocence intact, not like yours; exposed to too much, too soon. She's still that child in a body nearing adulthood, and you can't help but wonder what it's like to have your thoughts happy everyday, wake up with a smile on your face, and feel carefree every second.

You've always known a lot about Cat, how couldn't you? You went through elementary and middle school together and now you're doing the same with high school. You know she only likes unicorns with gold horns, if it's a farm animal it has to have a mustache, if you give her crayons the first one you give her _has _to be red. You know even more now; she whimpers when you flick her clit with your tongue, her toes curl when you tickle her neck with your breath. She likes it better when you start at her neck, but when she wants it to be more intimate you start with her collarbone because it's closer to her heart. She likes to grind against your knee and it doesn't matter if one of you is clothed or not. Cat likes to grind her hips and suck and lick at your breasts, the fox teasing the big bad wolf. When she wants to come she grabs your hair with both hands when your knee is between her legs, and bucks her hips against it.

When you lick her earlobe she squeaks out your name like you're asking for the secret password to continue on. You unlock her as easily as you start your car because you've been in the driver's seat so many times you can do it with you eyes closed. But when you're on the bottom and she's on top of you, it's a different story. She's knows she has to be gentle, because you're fragile despite your rough exterior on the outside. She teases you apart with sweet words and gentle touches until you're lying belly up for her silently begging for more. She has to loosen your sharp teeth and tongue first, then take away your claws so you're just as vunerable as she was when she was in your place. Because as scrambled as Cat is, she always remember the combination to unlock that sweet girl in the second grade. And she's always known that no matter how many times you've said you love black, it's the shining gold you want the most.

Because no matter how often you act heartless, she knows that's all it is; an act. She's known you longer and better than anyone else, even Beck, no...especially Beck. You never met Beck until high school, when that empty void in your chest yawned to be filled and you were too afraid to the one you needed most, the girl who dyed her hair red at ten, the one with the brights skirt and pretty smile. You didn't know until you started the seventh grade and went over to her house that she'd brought that gold crayon home with her and kept it in a translucent purple box under her bed. So you showed her the purple elephant and as odd as it was, that was the reason why you kissed for the first time. Because you both knew that the other cared enough to keep something from the past that meant so much more now than it did long ago. She kept you, locked inside that gold crayon, preserved happy Jade inside. You kept the past, present, and future Cat in that purple elephant.

That's why you always get something gold for your birthday, and that's why you got a gold crayon for your anniversary.

**I wanted to end it at the part about Jade liking the color gold, but I wanted it to be longer, so yeah. Oh, look, now it's two in the morning...**


End file.
